Looking After
by onceandfuturewarlock
Summary: Leon can't help but think sometimes how there's no one to look after Merlin. One-shot. Literally just ridiculous fluff.


Leon's first duty is to his king.

He knows this – of course he knows this, he's been a knight nearly fifteen years now, _well_ does he know this – and never once has he thought to shrink from it; but only since the irascible King Uther, with iron fist and ornate crown, died at the hands of a rather batty old sorcerer and his son Arthur ascended the throne, has he truly begun to embrace it.

For Arthur, in a thousand subtle ways, has proven himself a better man than his father, softer of heart, slower to anger, quicker to love, quicker to laugh, quicker to forgive, quicker to learn from past transgressions, quicker to humble himself, quicker to admit his mistakes.

Leon loves Arthur with the absolute, unceasing affection of a brother - but Arthur…well, Arthur has other knights. There are other knights that will ensure the king's safety, should Leon fail; and there are other knights that love Arthur as devotedly as he does, there are other knights that serve the sovereign just as proudly, there are other knights that will look after him, that will fight for him, that will die for him if they must.

And Leon can't help but think, sometimes, how there's no one to look after Merlin.

As befitting his station, the servant carries no weapon, and wears not a stitch of mail – yet every quest, every siege, every bloody and terrible battle sees him always in the thick, half a step behind his king, completely unarmed and heedless of the danger, like he thinks himself invincible, and then he emerges, triumphant and pleased and entirely unscathed, and of course, that just makes him even _more_ reckless the next time, and the next, until Leon feels desperately sorry for Gaius; if his own alarm is anything to go by, the poor old man must suffer an absolute frenzy of terror every time his ward is so much as late for dinner.

So for his own sake, and a little bit Gaius', and perhaps Gwen's and Gwaine's and even Arthur's, Leon has taken it upon himself to look after Merlin.

Sometimes it's big things – shoving him behind nearby trees or shrubs or foliage whenever they're beset by bandits or Saxons, because it doesn't _matter_ that he always emerges unscathed, what matters is keeping him that way, or tending to his wounds when he _doesn't_ emerge unscathed, or pushing him from the path of enemy swords and spells and spears sure to bring him harm – but other times—well, _most_ of the time, it's little things.

Like swiping a few sweet rolls right when the kitchens are at their busiest, and the cook isn't likely to notice, because the sweet rolls are Merlin's favorite and he's much too skinny as it is anyway, and Leon's going to remedy that if it kills the both of them, or lending him a hand here and there with Arthur's armor because that's four whole stories he's to traverse balancing the heavy silver mail; or that time he'd tried, and failed spectacularly, to teach the servant the ways of sword and shield, because if he insisted on going with them on quests all the time, he should at least know how to defend himself...

Yes, it's mostly things like that, little things, small and subtle, the sorts of things Merlin probably forgot about ten minutes after they occurred, the sorts of things Merlin will probably never remember.

The crackle and hiss of the modest campfire at his back pulls Leon from his thoughts, and he turns just a bit, tossing a quick glance over his shoulder to be sure everyone's all right – it wouldn't do to become so lost in his musings he neglects the entire purpose of his vigil, after all – but there's no need; they're all still asleep, sprawled in a loose circle round the popping, snapping flames, chests rising and falling in even, steady patterns—he's already beginning to relax when his eyes alight on Merlin, curled up with his back to the fire, only a few feet away from Arthur, and shivering lightly, body jolting sharply with every tremor.

Leon feels a frown pulling at his lips at the sight – though he has become accomplished in ignoring physical discomforts, even he couldn't fail to feel the bitter wind gusting through the campsite every few moments, but only now does it occur to him that it must be the worse for Merlin, thinly clad and skinny as he is.

He rises to his feet and quickly closes the distance between himself and the servant, stepping gingerly so as not to tread on the crumpled, colorful leaves scattered underfoot, and awaken the entire camp; once he's reached Merlin, he glances around uncertainly, in search of a spare or discarded layer, no matter how flimsy or ragged – any old thing would do – but he sees nothing, and raises his eyes heavenward a moment or two in vexation.

Of _course_ they didn't bring blankets, they didn't even bring horses – it was _supposed_ to be a simple hunting trip, commencing at dawn and ceasing only in the late afternoon, but then the weather turned against them, a heavy autumn rain drenching them all to the bone, and then they'd gotten waylaid by bandits, and everyone turned up all right, gods only knew how, but they _still_ found themselves woefully unprepared as always. They'd had _worse_ , of course, but a night on the hard, damp ground with only a weak, sputtering fire and little food was never pleasant, no matter past hardships.

Leon releases a soft, weary sigh at the recollection before shaking himself, and reaching up to unbuckle his cloak – it's a beautiful garment, truly, made from the finest fabrics, dyed the richest reds, and every day for fifteen years, he's worn it proudly, but he eases it silently from his shoulders without further thought for the mud and dirt it will doubtless acquire, and drapes it gently over the sleeping Merlin.

A small, fond smile tugs at his lips when the shivers slow, and after a moment, cease altogether.

Yes, Leon knows he's got a duty to look after his king, and he knows he'll never shrink from it – but there's no reason he can't look after Merlin, too.

* * *

 **notes: this is literally so silly & pointless & mushy but leon is the best & u can fight me**


End file.
